Through the Mirror
by Chibieska
Summary: Bakura Ryou looked through the mirror at himself. His kind and warm, the weak yadonushi look, but it was not that look he sought. He wanted that evil look, his other half and all those wrong feelings.


Yu-Gi-Oh! belongs to Kazuki Takahashi

Title: Through the Mirror

Notes: (1) This is a ficcional work, elements of the original work can be altered for better compatibility with this story.

(2) This story contains yaoi / shounen-ai, if you don't like, press (x) at the top of the page to exit.

(3) English is not my first language, sorry my grammar.

(4) Warning: slight-toxic relationship, slight-Stockholm Syndrome

I hope you enjoy!

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Bakura Ryou was lying in bed, the clock on the bedside table read 4:15 AM and he had not slept at all. Insomnia became a frequent companion, exhausting his strength before the day began, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't sleep.

He rolled over and stood in front of the mirror, staring at each self for a long time, studying the reflected features. It was still the same long, light hair, the same skinny arms, but the eyes were different. The eyes that stared at him were kind and warm, the weak, unresolved gaze of a yadonushi, but it was not that look he sought.

He wanted the irritable look that stared at him every morning as he brushed his teeth or straightened his hair. The suspicious look he saw reflected quickly every time he passed a shop window, the cruel look that reflected in the pool of blood of every person he had injured. But as scary as those looks were, Ryou missed each one of them.

He didn't know exactly when it started, a week or two after the final battle, but he felt extremely lonely. He still had Yugi and the others, but that didn't seem to be enough. It was that same suffocating and oppressive loneliness that overcame him after his sister's death and was always within him, slowly consuming him.

The voice in the Millenium Ring wasn't his friend, indeed, it was far from it. But even if they never had the same bond Yugi created with his other self, the voice was still there to whisper in his ear, and somehow those words, however cruel, kept away the loneliness that eroded him. It became a feeling that no one would ever understand, and he couldn't tell anyone.

The feeling was there when the voice praised his diorama's skills and was there when he controlled and defended him from daily bullying and was there to complain that he was weak. It was a cruel voice, but it made him fulfilled.

Without realizing, his hand slid down his body until he reached his pants. The mere memory of that voice made his cock alert and pumping. It was a hot, awkward feeling, but with a touch of his fingers, he knew he needed it.

He kicked his pants away and began to stimulate his cock, his eyes fixed on the mirror still searching for the intense gaze, while his mind allowed himself to recall every offense, every demand, every affront that the dark voice had uttered.

He unzipped his pajama shirt and stared at his chest, the scars on the Millennium Ring almost invisible, but he could still feel the marks through the touch. Each time the Ring clung onto his chest, the voice was furious and frightening, and Ryou had the sensation of hearing it again, whispered in his ear.

The member pulsed with intensity, his breathing grew faster, and he stared at himself more intensely through the mirror. He wanted the hands that touched him not to be own, he wanted the voice he imagined was real, the scars on his chest alive and throbbing.

Ryou had always tried to avoid that kind of feeling, but now, surrendered to ecstasy, he was pretty sure it had always existed inside him. Those feelings were so wrong, the whole time they spent together, he felt hunted down, overwhelmed and invaded, and now that he was finally free, he missed all those sensations. He was trapped in his need to be important to someone, in the need for those words, however rude, that were directed only at him.

The speed of his hand increased, his body became hot and his vision blurred, Bakura's name echoed loudly around the room as his body surrendered to spasms of pleasure. In those few seconds, Ryou felt complete and welcoming, as if invisible hands were embracing them and a second voice dueted with his shy moans.

Gradually, his breathing returned to normal and that warm and welcoming sensation dissipated, and the emptiness and loneliness invaded him again. He had become very dependent on the Ring and the voice that inhabited it. His feelings were wrong and dirty, but he couldn't avoid them, and even if he could, he didn't want to. He wanted his other self, longed for that damn sense of intimidation, wanted to be covered by all the misfortune that the spirit of the Ring tied to his life.

But in the end, none of his wishes mattered. The Ring was destroyed, and all that remained was the yadonushi's gaze without determination staring at him through the mirror.

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Thank you for reading.

If you like, please comment!


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